Lichtdom

Lichtdom (pronounced lish-dumm)

A visual technique using light to emulate large-scale architecture.

1934: The construct of the German Lichtdom was licht + dom (literally “cathedral of light”).  Licht (variously light, effortless, freely, easy, free; luminous; eye, clear, sparse, bright, light, shiny, light colored; distinct, plain, obvious, explicit, lucid, straightforward) was from the Middle High German lieht and the Middle German līcht), from the Old High German lioht, from the Old Saxon lioht, from the Proto-West Germanic leuht, from the Proto-Germanic leuhtą, from the primitive Indo-European lewktom.  The descendants include the Dutch licht and the English light.  The obsolete alternative spelling was Liecht.  The colloquial uses include describing candles and (in hunting), the eye of (especially ground) game.  The usual plural is Lichter but Lichte operates as a plural when speaking of candles.  Dom (cathedral; church; big church building; dome, cupola) was from the French dôme, from the Italian duomo, from the Latin domus (ecclesiae (literally “house (of the church)”)), a calque of the Ancient Greek οἶκος τῆς ἐκκλησίας (oîkos tês ekklēsías).  Lichtdom is a compound noun.

Reichsparteitag (Party Rally) Nuremberg, 1934.

Of all that was designed by Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945), little was built and less remains.  Although he would later admit the monumentalism of the Nazi architectural model was a mistake, his statements of contrition seemed always tinged with a regret that in the years to come, all he was likely to be remembered for was his “immaterial lightshow”, used as a dramatic backdrop for the party rallies held at the Zeppelinfeld stadium in Nuremberg.  Compared with what, had things worked out, he’d have been able to render in steel, concrete, marble and granite, Lichtdom (cathedral of light) was of course ephemeral but it’s undeniably memorable.  Speer created the effect by placing the Luftwaffe’s (the German air force) entire stock of 152 1500 mm (60 inch) searchlights around the stadium’s perimeter and maximized the exposure of the design by insisting as many events as possible be conducted in darkness.  The other other advantage was the interplay of light and shadow disguised the paunchiness of the assembled Nazis, many of whom were flabbier than the party’s lean, “Aryan ideal” (by which they meant something stereotypically “Nordic”) but that was anyway suspect; one joke spread by the famously cynical Berlin natives noting that empirically a better description of the Nazi reality was "as blonde as Hitler, as fit as Göring, as tall as Goebbels and as sane as Hess".  The use by the Nazis of the term “Aryan race” to describe people of “pure Germanic descent” was later extended to encompass “all non-Jewish Caucasians” but it was a pseudoscientific concept and one of a number of acts of Nazi misappropriation.  Aryan was a Sanskrit word from the Proto-Indo-Iranian áryas (the original Indo-Iranian autonym) and it entered English in the nineteenth century as a technical term used in structural linguistics, initially to describe Indo-Iranian languages and later extended to most Indo-European languages.

Reichsparteitag (Party Rally) Nuremberg, 1936.

The spectacle left few unimpressed.  Sir Neville Henderson (1882-1942; UK ambassador to Germany 1937-1939), the UK’s admittedly impressionable ambassador described the ethereal atmosphere as “…both solemn and beautiful… like being in a cathedral of ice.”  History though has preferred “cathedral of light” and brief views are captured in Hans Weidemann’s (1904-1975) Festliches Nürnberg (Festival of Nuremberg; a 1937 propaganda film chronicling the 1936 and 1937 events) which is mercifully shorter than Leni Riefenstahl’s (1902–2003) better-known works although the poor quality of the film stock used can only hint at the majesty achieved but the use of Richard Wagner's (1813-1883) Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (The Master-Singers of Nuremberg, 1868) as a musical accompaniment helps.  Riefenstahl actually claimed she suggested the idea to Speer and a much better record exists in her film Olympia (1938) which documented the 1936 Summer Olympics at which the technique was also used.  Architects had of course for millennia been interested in light but apart from those responsible for the placement of stained glass windows and other specialties, mostly they were concerned with function rather than anything representational.  It was the advances the nineteenth century in the availability and luminosity of artificial light which allowed them to use light as an aesthetic element not limited candles or the time of day and thus the angle of sunlight.

Fragment from Olympia (1938) with Lichtdom.

Speer had plenty of time to reflect on the past while serving twenty years in Berlin’s Spandau prison for war crimes and crimes against humanity, a sentence he was lucky to receive.  His interest in light persisted and with unrestricted access to the FRG's (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990) technical libraries, he assembled close to a thousand pages of notes for a planned book on the history of the window in European buildings, musing on variables such as the cost and availability of glass at different times in different places, the shifting cost of the labor of glaziers & carpenters and market interventions such as England’s notorious “window tax” which resulted in some strange looking structures.  Ever drawn to the mathematics he’d in his youth intended to study until forced to follow his father into architecture, he pondered the calculations which might produce the changes in “what value a square meter of light had at different periods” and what this might reveal beyond the actual buildings.

Lindsay Lohan in a drone (UAV; unmanned aerial vehicle)) light show over Marina Bay, Singapore, generated by Google's Gemini generative AI (artificial intelligence).

It was a shame the book was never written.  He recalled also the effects he applied to the German pavilion he built for the Paris World’s Fair in 1937, bathing it at night with “…skilfully arranged spotlights.  The result was to make the architecture of the building emerge sharply outlined against the night, and at the same time to make it unreal... a combination of architecture and light.”  It was at the Paris event the German and Soviet pavilions sat directly opposed, something of a harbinger and deliberately so.  He was nostalgic too about the Lichtdom, thinking it recalled “a fabulous setting, like one of the imaginary crystal palaces of the Middle Ages” although wryly he would note history would remember his contributions to his profession only for the ephemeral, the “…idea that the most successful architectural creation of my life is a chimera, an immaterial phenomenon.”  Surprisingly, for someone who planned the great city of Germania (the planned re-building of Berlin) with its monumental structures, the news that all that remained in the city of his designs were a handful of lampposts (which stand to this day) seemed something almost amusing.  In all his post-war writings, although there’s much rejection as “a failure” of the plan of Germania and the rest of the “neo-Classical on a grand scale” which characterized Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) vision of representational architecture, it’s not hard to detect twinges of regret for the unbuilt and sometimes he admitted it.  As he was contemplating a return to the drawing board upon his impending release, he noted: “Although I have had enough of monumental architecture and turn my mind deliberately to utilitarian buildings, it sometimes comes hard for me to bid goodbye to my dreams of having a place in the history of architecture. How will I feel when I am asked to design a gymnasium, a relay station, or a department store after I planned the biggest domed hall in the world?  Hitler once said to my wife: ‘I am assigning tasks to your husband such as have not been given for four thousand years. He will erect buildings for eternity!’  And now gyms!”  As things transpired, not even a gym was built and he instead re-invented himself as an author, writing his history in text.  Of that piece of curated architecture, some were fooled and some not but what he wrote remains (selectively) useful.

Tribute in Light annual commemoration, New York.

Dramatic though it was, the exact effect Speer achieved in the 1930s is so tainted by its association with the Nazis that few have attempted to recycle the motif although one pop-star used the effect as a visual backdrop in 1976 when he was going through “his right-wing phase” which later he came to think of as “an unpleasantness” and preferred “never to speak of it again”.  Those affected badly by having seen “something nasty in the woodshed” will understand how he felt.  Isolated or clustered beams are however often used and one display is an annual “Tribute in Light” to commemorate the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.  It demonstrates the way the dynamics can be used; depending on conditions, the light can bounce off the clouds, creating a very different effect than that afforded by a clear sky and it’s possible to render in those clouds a virtual oculus.

Tribute in Light annual commemoration, New York: The oculus effect.  Note the circling birds.

One problem with high intensity light the Tribute in Light has high-lighted is the way temporarily it messes each year with the migration of hundreds of thousands of songbirds.  The memorial uses 88 focused spotlights, the beams of which reach some 6¼ miles (10 km) into the sky and are visible from as far away as 60 miles (100 km).  Traditionally, the display was illuminated from dusk to dawn but of late it’s been switched off for 20 minute intervals in deference to the songbirds which in mid-September make their long flight from breeding grounds in Canada's boreal forests to their winter homes in the southern US, Mexico, and Central & South America.  They fly mostly by night and it’s thought they’ve evolved to navigate by the stars but, unfortunately, are much attracted to light.  The Tribute in Light having more light than anything else at altitude, the display seems to confuse the birds and it was noted the death toll from birds crashing into New York windows increased every 9/11.  Observers found there was also an element of sound involved, the birds in the light issuing the call associated with distress, this tending to draw more songbirds to the light.

Tribute in Light annual commemoration, New York: Songbirds "caught" in the light.

Researchers used radar to quantify the effect.  Typically, the skies within a ¼ mile (400 metre) of the un-illumined memorial contained around 500 birds but when lit, within 20 minutes, there were almost 16,000.  Extrapolating the data, it was estimated some 1.1 million migrating songbirds had been affected between 2008-2016, even accounting for the lights since 2009 having been shut-off for 20 minutes whenever volunteer birders count more than 1,000 in the beams.  It’s thought the death–toll from birds crashing into buildings is relatively low but there’s concern also the creatures are compelled to expend energy when circling the site, burning up vital resources needed for their long flights.  Shutting off the lights is thought to allow the birds to re-focus on their guiding stars to find their bearings and continue the migration south.  Birders would prefer searchlights not be used at all and some sites have agreed not to use them during the migration season but there’s obviously much sensitivity around the 9/11 commemoration.  Human development of the built environment has for a long time influenced the migration path, the radar data confirming birds disproportionately choose to fly over cities, the researchers referring to the “almost magnetic pull of birds to light.”  We need to remember it's their planet too.

Houndstooth

Houndstooth (pronounced houns-tuth)

(1) A two-colour fabric pattern of broken checks (multi-color versions using the pattern do now exist and are also so-described).

(2) Fabric with a houndstooth pattern; an item of clothing made with such fabric.

(3) In botany, as Cynoglossum officinale (houndstongue, houndstooth, dog's tongue, gypsy flower (and “rats and mice” due to its smell), a herbaceous plant of the family Boraginaceae.

1936: A word, based on the appearance of the design, the pattern (in architecture, decorative art, fabric etc) is ancient but the descriptive term “houndstooth” has been in use only since 1936.  The shape is sometimes referred to as dogstooth (or dog's tooth) and in French it’s the more pleasing pied-de-poule (chicken feet), preferred also by the Italians.  In 1936 there must have been pedants who insisted it should have been “hound's tooth” because that does appear in some advertisements but in commercial use, houndstooth quickly was standardized.  The name was chosen a reference directly to a dog’s tooth, not the pattern of teeth marks left by its bite.  The construct was hounds + tooth.  Hound was from the Middle English hound, from the Old English hund, from the Proto-West Germanic hund, from the Proto-Germanic hundaz and was congnate with the West Frisian hûn, the Dutch hond, the Luxembourgish Hond, the German Hund, the German Low German Hund, the Danish hund, the Faroese hundur, the Icelandic hundur, the Norwegian Bokmål hund, the Norwegian Nynorsk hund and the Swedish hund, from the pre-Germanic ḱuntós (which may be compared with the Latvian sùnt-ene (big dog), an enlargement of the primitive Indo-European ḱwṓ (dog).  Elsewhere, the forms included the Old Irish cú (dog), the Tocharian B ku, the Lithuanian šuõ, the Armenian շուն (šun), and the Russian сука (suka)).  

In England, as late as the fourteenth century, “hound” remained the word in general use to describe most domestic canines while “dog” was used of a sub-type resembling the modern mastiff and bulldog.  By the sixteenth century, dog had displaced hound as the general word descriptor. The latter coming to be restricted to breeds used for hunting and in the same era, the word dog was adopted by several continental European languages as their word for mastiff.  Dog was from the Middle English dogge (source also of the Scots dug (dog)), from the Old English dogga & docga of uncertain origin.  Interestingly, the original sense appears to have been of a “common dog” (as opposed one well-bred), much as “cur” was later used and there’s evidence it was applied especially to stocky dogs of an unpleasing appearance.  Etymologists have pondered the origin:  It may have been a pet-form diminutive with the suffix -ga (the similar models being compare frocga (frog) & picga (pig), appended to a base dog-, or doc-(the origin and meaning of these unclear). Another possibility is Old English dox (dark, swarthy) (a la frocga from frog) while some have suggested a link to the Proto-West Germanic dugan (to be suitable), the origin of Old English dugan (to be good, worthy, useful), the English dow and the German taugen; the theory is based on the idea that it could have been a child’s epithet for dogs, used in the sense of “a good or helpful animal”.  Few support that and more are persuaded there may be some relationship with docce (stock, muscle), from the Proto-West Germanic dokkā (round mass, ball, muscle, doll), from which English gained dock (stumpy tail).  In fourteenth century England, hound (from the Old English hund) was the general word applied to all domestic canines while dog referred to some sub-types (typically those close in appearance to the modern mastiff and bulldog.  In German, the form endures as der Hund (the dog) & die Hunde (the dogs) and the houndstooth pattern is Hahnentritt.  Houndstooth is a noun; the noun plural is houndsteeth.  Strictly speaking, it may be that certain use of the plural (such as several houndstooth jackets) should be called “houndstooths” but this is an ugly word which should be avoided and no sources seem to list it as standard.  The same practice seems to have been adopted for handing the plural of cars called “Statesman”, “statesmen” seeming just an absurdity.

Although the classic black & white remains the industry staple, designer colors are now not uncommon.

In modern use in English, a “hound” seems to be thought of as a certain sort of dog, usually large, with a finely honed sense of smell and used (often in packs) for hunting and the sense development may also have been influenced by the novel The Hound of the Baskervilles (1901-1902) by the physician Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1859–1930).  The best regarded of Conan Doyle’s four novels, it’s set in the gloomy fog of Dartmoor in England’s West Country and is the tale of the search for a “fearsome, diabolical hound of supernatural origin”.  The author's name is an example of how conventions of use influence things.  He's long been referred to as “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle” or “Conan Doyle” which would imply the surname “Conan Doyle” but his surname was “Doyle” and he was baptized with the Christian names “Arthur Ignatius Conan”, the “Conan” from his godfather.  Some academic and literary libraries do list him as “Doyle” but he's now referred to almost universally as “Conan Doyle” and the name “Arthur Doyle” would be as un-associated with him as “George Shaw” would with George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950).  Conan Doyle's most famous creation was of course the detective Sherlock Holmes and he wore a houndstooth deerstalker cap.   Tooth (a hard, calcareous structure present in the mouth of many vertebrate animals, generally used for biting and chewing food) was from the Middle English tothe, toth & tooth, from the Old English tōþ (tooth), from the Proto-West Germanic tanþ, from the Proto-Germanic tanþs (tooth), from the primitive Indo-European h₃dónts (tooth) and related to tusk.

Lindsay Lohan in monochrome check jacket, Dorchester Hotel, London, June 2017 (left), Lindsay Lohan in L.A.M.B. Lambstooth Sweater, Los Angeles, April 2005 (centre) and racing driver Sir Lewis Hamilton (b 1985) in a Burberry Houndstooth ensemble, Annual FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, Baku, Azerbaijan, December 2023 (right).  The Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the FIA; the International Automobile Federation) is world sport's dopiest regulatory body.  Although, at a distance, a wide range of fabrics look like houndstooth, some are really simple symmetrical, monochrome checks without the distinctive pattern and where designers have varied the shape, other descriptors (and L.A.M.B. couldn’t resist “lambstooth”) are used, something which helps also with product differentiation.  Sir Lewis though, sticks to the classics.  Regarded as the most fashion conscious of the Formula One drivers of his generation, it’s clear that assiduously he studies Lohanic fashion directions.

Designers consider houndstooth part of the plaid “family”, the jagged contours of the shape the point of differentiation from most which tend towards uniform, straight lines.  Although for the archaeological record its clear the concept of the design has an ancient lineage, what’s now thought of as the “classic” black & white houndstooth was defined in the mid-nineteenth century when it began to be produced at scale in the Scottish lowlands, in parallel with the plaid most associated with the culture, the tartan (although in some aspects the “history & cultural traditions” of tartan were a bit of a commercial construct).  Technically, a houndstooth is a two tone (the term monochrome often used in the industry to convey the idea of “black & white” (a la photography) rather than being etymologically accurate) plaid in four bands, two of each color (in both the weft & warp weave), woven with the simple 2:2 twill.  One of the charms of the design is that with slight variations in size and scale, different effects can be achieved and color mixes are now not uncommon although the classic black & white remains the standard.

Houndstooth has received the imprimatur of more than one Princess of Wales: Catherine, Princess of Wales (b 1982, left) and Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997, right) in a typically daring color mix.

The history in the Lowlands is murky but it seems certain the early fabrics were woven from wool which makes sense given the importance of sheep to the economy and the early garments were utilitarian, often cloak-like outer garments for those tending the flocks.  The early term was “shepherd’s check” which became first “dogstooth” and then “houndstooth”, canine teeth something with which shepherds would have been familiar because of the threat to their animals from the predations of wild dogs.  Fabric with smaller checks could be called “puppycheck”.  Interestingly, despite its striking appearance, the houndstooth pattern remained a generic and was never adopted as a family or clan symbol, a la the tartans.  It gained a new popularity in the 1930s when photographs began to appear of members of the British royal family and various gentry wearing houndstooth jackets while hunting or riding, thus the association with wealth and privilege which so appealed to the middle class who started wearing them too.  By the time designers began to put them on the catwalks, houndstooth’s future was assured.

Actor Anya Taylor-Joy (b 1996) in ankle-length, collared houndstooth cape with matching mini-skirt by Jonathan Anderson (b 1984; creative director of Christian Dior since 2025) over a sleeveless, white, button-down vest and black, stiletto pumps, Paris Fashion Week, October, 2025.

The car is a Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit (1980-1997), the first of the SZ Series platform which would serve the line until 2003.  The Silver Spirit (and the companion LWB (long wheelbase) variant the Silver Spur (1980-2000)) was mechanically little changed from the Silver Shadow (1965-1980) but with styling updated with hints from the still controversial Camargue (1975-1986), a somewhat ungainly two-door saloon designed by Pininfarina which, as an addition to the range which included the conceptually identical Corniche (under various names available since 1966), appeared to have no purpose other than being positioned as the “world’s most expensive car” but that was apparently enough; even in the troubled 1970s, there was a demand for Veblen products.

In the closet: The ensemble awaits.

There were nice touches in the cape, a highlight of the detailing the arpeggiating used for the hem.  In sewing, the arpeggiated stitch is a technique in hand-stitching that creates an invisible and durable finish by catching only a single thread from the main fabric with each stitch.  This demands the hem be folded, turning the garment inside out allowing a hand-held needle to form small, V-shaped stitches by piercing the seam allowance and then the main fabric.  For the necessary robustness to be achieved, the stitching is kept deliberately loose (preventing pulling which would distort the line) with the finished hem pressed and steamed further to conceal the stitch-work.  Obviously labor intensive and therefore expensive to implement, it’s used in garments where the most immaculate finish is desired and although it’s now possible partially to emulate the effect using machine-stitching, the fashion houses know that for their finest, the old ways are best.

Poetry in motion: The lovely Anya Taylor-Joy on the move, illustrating the way the fashion industry cuts its capes to provide a "framing effect" for the rest of the outfit.

Amusingly, although the industry is sensitive to the issue of cultural appropriation (and especially so if matters end up in court), the term “arpeggiated” was “borrowed” from music.  In music, arpeggiate describes the playing of a chord as an arpeggio (the notes of a chord played individually instead of simultaneously, moving usually from lowest to highest but the same word is used whether notes are rising or falling).  It was from the Italian arpeggiare (to play on a harp), the construct being arpa (harp) +‎ -eggiare (a suffix from the Late Latin -izāre and used to form verbs from adjectives or nouns).  The connection comes from the harp’s sound being associated with flowing sequences of notes rather than “block sounds”.  So, the word can be understood as meaning “broken into a rhythmic or sequential pattern, note by note” and the use in sewing (as “arpeggiated stitch”) took the metaphorically from the musical term, referencing a series of short, regularly spaced diagonal or looped stitches that create a flowing, undulating pattern (ie a rising and falling wave-like progression rather than a static block).

Anya Taylor-Joy in cape, swishing around.

Capes often are spoken of as having an “equestrian look” and it’s true capes do have a long tradition on horseback, both in military and civilian use although in fashion the traditional cut of the fabric has evolved into something better thought of as a “framing effect” for what is worn beneath.  That differs from the more enveloping capes worn by those in professions as diverse as cavalry officers and nomadic sheep herders form whom a cape was there to afford protection from the elements and to act as barrier to the dust and mud which is a way of life in such professions.  On the catwalks and red carpets there’s not usually much mud thrown about (other than metaphorically when the “best & worst dressed” lists appear) and the cape is there just for the visual effect.  That effect is best understood on the move because a cape on its hanger is a lifeless thing whereas when on someone walking so it can flow, coming alive; models become expert in exploiting the billowing made possible by the “sail-like” behavior of the fabric when the fluid dynamics of air are allowed to do their stuff.  A skilled model can make a cape swish seductively. 

1969 Holden Monaro GTS 350 (left), 1972 Holden Monaro GTS 308 (centre) and 1977 Chrysler Cordoba (right).

Despite the popular perception, not all the “personal luxury” Chryslers of the era and not even all the Cordobas (1975-1983) were finished in “Rich Corinthian Leather” although until a one-off appearance in brochures for the 1975 Imperials, the Corinthian hides were exclusive to the Cordoba.  For passenger car interiors, houndstooth (rendered usually with a synthetic material) enjoyed a late mid-century spate of popularity, used for what were called generically “cloth inserts” and the use of houndstooth trended towards vehicles marketed as “sporty” whereas for luxury cars plusher fabrics like velour were preferred.  The cloth inserts were usually paired with vinyl although in some more expensive ranges they were used with leather.

Houndstooth (left), Pepita (Shepherd's Check) (centre) and Vichy Check (right).

For decades, it’s been common to refer to the optional upholstery offered by Porsche in the 1960s as “houndstooth” but according to Recaro Automotive Seating, the German concern which supplied the fabric, the correct name is “Pepita” (known also as “Shepherd’s Check”), a design built with interconnected squares.  What has happened is that “houndstooth” has for most purposes in colloquial English become a generic term, used to describe anything “houndstoothesque” and it’s an understandable trend given that not only would a close examination be required to determine which pattern appears on a fabric, unless one is well-acquainted with the differences in shape, most would be none the wiser.  Nor did Recaro use “Vichy Check” for the seats they trimmed for Porsche although that erroneous claim too is sometimes made.  Further confusing the history, when Stuttgarter Karosseriewerk Reutter (Porsche’s original supplier) started production of seats used in the Porsche 356 (1948-1965) a number of fabrics were offered including one in nylon in a similar black-and-white pattern which was neither houndstooth nor Pepita.

1967 Porsche 911S, trimmed in Recaro Pepita.

The Reutter family founded Recaro in 1963 and in December that year the first Pepita pattern fabrics were made commercially available, used on the later Porsche 356Cs, the 911 (which briefly was called the 901) & the 912.  Porsche’s best known use of the pepita fabric was on the Recaro Sportsitz (Sport seat), first displayed at the 1965 Frankfurt Motor Show and they’re a prized part of the early 911S models, the first of which were delivered in the northern summer of 1966.  At that point, the Pepita fabric became a factory option for the 911 and the last use was in the Recaro Idealsitz (Ideal seat), offered only in 1970–71 in black & white, red & beige, brown & beige and blue & green.  In a nostalgic nod, Porsche returned Pepita seats to the option list for the 911 legacy model, released in 2013 to mark the car’s 50^th anniversary although Recaro was not involved in the production.

1969 Porsche 912.  The Pepita key-fob, sun visors and dashboard trim will appeal to some.

The factory at the time didn't apply the Pepita fabric quite so liberally but the originality police seem more indulgent towards departures from specification in 912s, especially if done in a way the factory might have done it; if seen on a 911, automatically, they deduct points.  The Porsche 912 (1965-1969 & (as 912E) 1976) was essentially a four-cylinder version of the 911 with less standard equipment and the early models used a version of the air-cooled flat-four from the superseded 356 (1948-1965).  It was highly successful (initially out-selling the much more expensive, six-cylinder, 911) and production ceased only because the factory’s capacity was needed for the new 914 (1969-1976) which, being mid-engined, Porsche believed was a harbinger for its future sports cars, there being little belief the rear-engine configuration would endure into the 1980s.  However, the customer always being right, things didn’t work out that way and, still in high demand, the rear-engined 911 has already entered the second quarter of the twenty-first century.  The 912E was a single-season “stop-gap model” for the US market to provide an entry-level Porsche between the end of 914 production and the introduction of the front-engined 924 (1976-1988).  Like the four-cylinder 914s and the early 924s, the 912E used a Volkswagen engine, Porsches old 356 unit having never been made compliant with emission control regulations.  Long something of an orphan, the 912 now has a following and while there are faithful restorations, modifications are not uncommon, many with interior appointment upgraded to include those used on the more expensive 911s (though Pepita sun-visors will for most be a resto-mod too far).

Reception Chairs with Porsche Pepita-style fabric by 1600 Veloce.

While not all Porsche owners “have everything”, some presumably do so buying them a present can be a challenge.  However, there exists in the collector car business a minor collateral trade in thematically attuned peripheral pieces including models of stuff which can be larger than the original (hood ornaments, badges and such) or smaller (whole cars, go-karts etc).  Parts can also be repurposed, the best known of which are internally-damaged engines re-imagined as coffee-tables (almost always with glass tops) but there are also chairs and occasional tables.  Ideal for a collector, Porsche dealership or restoration house, specialists will trim chairs and occasional tables in the distinctive Pepita fabric, which, being black & white, might even get a tick of approval from interior decorators, a notoriously judgmental lot.  Some even offer rugs in the style but fibre floor-coverings even partly white can be tiresome to own.  For those who want a later motif, furniture has been made using the even more distinctive “Porsche Pasha” which, being jarringly asymmetric, needs the eye of an expert upholsterer for things to line-up in a pleasing way.

Matching numbers, matching houndstooth: 1970 Holden HG GTS 350 Monaro in Indy Orange with black detailing (paint combo code 567-122040) and houndstooth cloth seat inserts in Indy Orange & black (trim code 1199-10Z).  This car (VIN: 81837GJ255169; Model: HG81837; Chassis: HG16214M) is one of the most prized Monaros because the specification includes a 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) small block Chevrolet V8 (L48) with the “McKinnon block”, paired with the four-speed manual Saginaw (variously the 2.54:1 M21 or 2.85:1 M22) gearbox.  Holden built 405 HG GTS 350s, 264 as manuals and 141 with the two-speed Powerglide automatic transmission.  “McKinnon” is a reference to the General Motors (GM) McKinnon Industries plant in St. Catharine's, Ontario where the blocks were cast; many of the the “American” cars exported to the UK, Australia, New Zealand and elsewhere in the Commonwealth often came from Canada because of the lower tariff rates, a legacy of the old "Commonwealth Preference scheme", the last relic of the chimera of "Imperial Free Trade".  Despite the UK in 1973 joining the EEC (European Economic Community, the institution which ultimately became the EU (European Union), some of Detroit's Australian outposts would until 1976 retain a small export flow of cars to the UK, their relatively large size and V8 engines inhabiting a limited but lucrative niche.

Very 1970s: GM's Black & Indy Orange houndstooth fabric; in the US it was also offered in the Chevrolet Camaro.  What was it about brown & orange in the 1970s?

Introduced in 1968, the Holden Monaro was the car which triggered Australia’s brief flirtation with big (in local terms, in US nomenclature  the cars were “compact” size) coupés, a fad which would fade away by the mid 1970s.  It had been Ford which had first tested the market with a Falcon two-door hardtop (XM, 1964-1965 & XP, 1965-1966) but when the restyled model was released, it was again based on the US Falcon and the range no longer included a two-door hardtop, the wildly successful Mustang having rendered it unnecessary.  There was in the US still a two-door Falcon sedan but it was thought to have limited appeal in Australia so was never offered meaning Ford didn’t have a model comparable with the Monaro until the XA Falcon Hardtop made its debut late in 1972 although by then the brief moment had almost passed.  While the Falcon Hardtop proved successful as a race-car, sales never met expectations, compelling the factory to produce a number of promotional "special models", usually unchanged in mechanical specification but with distinctive paint schemes and "bundled options", the latter at a notional discount.

1970 Ford Mustang Grandé in New Lime Metallic with Ivy Green Corinthian Vinyl & Houndstooth Cloth trim with Houndstooth vinyl roof in green & black.

In 1969, when introducing the Mustang Grandé, Ford attempted to remove any ambiguity by using an “é” with a l'accent aigu (acute accent), indicating the pronunciation should be Grahn-day, despite the spelling not being used in any language where “grande” exists.  Introduced in 1969, the Mustang Grandé was the range’s “luxury” version and its addition to the line was a harbinger for the trend of the 1970s as high-performance was, for many reasons, put on-held.  The Grandé used a standard mechanical specification but included a long list of “convenience” and “dress-up” items and was a success; it was the spiritual ancestor of the “Ghia” versions which for decades would be the most elaborately equipped Mustangs.  Surprisingly, despite being aimed at a demographic not interested in going fast, the Grandé could be ordered with almost any engine in the catalogue, including the 428 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Super CobraJet, designed for use on drag strips and some really were built so configured; only the unique Boss 429 was not available.  A vinyl roof was standard but the rarely ordered houndstooth option cost an additional US$28.

Gargoyle & Grotesque

Gargoyle (pronounced gahr-goil)

(1) A grotesquely carved figure of a human or animal crafted as an ornament or projection, especially in Gothic and neo-Gothic architecture.

(2) In architecture, a spout, terminating in a grotesque representation of a human, animal or supernatural figure with open mouth, projecting from the gutter of a building for throwing rain water clear of a building.

(3) Archaic slang for person with a grotesque appearance, especially if small and shrivelled.

(4) Fictional monsters; pop-culture creations inspired by the decorative and/or functional projections in Gothic and neo-Gothic architecture.

1250–1300: From the Middle English gargoile & gargurl (grotesque carved waterspout) from the Old French gargouille & gargoule (throat) and it’s from here modern English gets gargle.  Even in the Gothic period, not all gargoyles were conduits for draining rainwater; many were purely decorative and were therefore grotesques.

Grotesque (pronounced groh-tesk)

(1) In architecture, a thing odd, unnatural or fantastic in the shaping and combination of forms, as in the sixteenth-century decorative style (in any material) combining incongruous human, animal or supernatural figures with scrolls, foliage etc.

(2) Distorted, deformed, weird, antic, wild.

(3) In the classification of art, of or characteristic of the grotesque.

(4) In typography, the family of 19th-century sans serif display types

1555:1565: From the Middle French grotesque from the Italian grottesco (of a cave), derived from grotta from the Vulgar Latin grupta.  Ultimate root is the Classical Latin crypta from which English picked up crypt.  Grotta entered French from the Italian pittura (grottesca) (cave-painting) and it was via French English picked up grotto.  Connection with the decorative forms attached to gothic architecture is the fantastical nature of some cave-paintings.  Spreading from Italian to the other European languages, the term was long used interchangeably with arabesque and moresque for decorative patterns using curving foliage elements.

The Gargoyle and Water Management

Gargoyle: Bern Minster, Switzerland.

Often used interchangeably, the technical difference between gargoyles and grotesques is that gargoyles contain a water sprout, carved usually through the mouth, whereas grotesques do not.  A gargoyle thus has a function in engineering whereas a grotesque’s purpose is essentially decorative although it is nominally functional in that they were believed to provide protection from evil, harmful, or unwanted spirits.  The application of more modern techniques of rainwater management has had the effect of turning many gargoyles into grotesques although architectural historians maintain the original designations.  As long ago as the sixteenth century, drainpipes were installed in the Notre Dame cathedral in Paris so the gargoyles became merely ornamental, although, they did of course continue to ward off evil.

Gargoyle: Cologne Cathedral, Germany.

The number of gargoyles attached to a building and their size and shape was a product of climate and fluid dynamics.  Architects used multiple gargoyles to divide the flow of rainwater off the roof to minimize the potential damage of a rainstorm and that number was influenced by the rainfall prevalent in the area where the structure sat.  The architect needed to consider not the annual rainfall but the heaviest prolonged rain-events expected; they thus had to cater for peak demand and the gargoyles needed to be sufficient in total capacity to evacuate the volume of water expected during the heaviest falls.  To achieve this, a trough was cut in the back of the gargoyle, rainwater typically exiting through the open mouth.  Gargoyles usually assumed their elongated fantastical animal forms because the length of the gargoyle determines how far water was thrown from the wall, the shape thus determined by fluid dynamics.  Prior to the extensive use of pipes reaching to the ground, the gargoyles were sometimes augmented by other techniques; when Gothic flying buttresses were used, aqueducts were sometimes cut into the buttress to divert water over the aisle walls.  Typically cut from stone, Non-ferrous metals and alloys such as aluminium, copper, brass and bronze have been used.

Grotesque: Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Edinburgh.  Technically, this is a pair of chimeras (a subset of the grotesque).

The term originates from the French gargouille (throat; gullet) from the Latin gurgulio, gula & gargula (gullet; throat) and similar words derived from the root gar (to swallow) which represented the gurgling sound of water (such as the Spanish garganta (throat) & g‡rgola (gargoyle)).  It was connected also to the French verb gargariser (to gargle).  Most helpful are the languages where the translation is architecturally precise.  The Italian word for gargoyle is doccione o gronda sporgente (protruding gutter), the German is Wasserspeier (water spewer) and the Dutch is waterspuwer (water spitter or (even better) water vomiter).  A building with gargoyles is said to be "gargoyled" but, during the Middle Ages, babewyn was slang used to describe gargoyles and grotesques, a word derived from the Italian babuino (baboon), an indication of what the things resembled, especially when viewed from a distance.  The size and shape of a gargoyle was thus dictated by function but the detail was left to the imagination of the designer.  Those creating grotesques had few limitations.  Because of the need to scare off and protect from evil or harmful spirits, the carvings often had the quality of chimeras, creatures a mix of different types of animal body parts creating a new animal, some notable chimeras being griffins, centaurs, harpies, and mermaids, these eerie figures serving as a warning to those folk who might underestimate the devil.

Grotesque: National Cathedral, Washington DC.  Although there's an open mouth, this plays no part in water management and is purely decorative.

In water management, the gargoyle has a long history.  In the architecture of Ancient Egypt, there was little variation, the spouts typically in the form of a lion's head carved into the marble or terracotta cymatium of the cornice.  The Temple of Zeus had originally 102 of these but, being rendered from marble, they were heavy and many have broken off or been stolen and only 39 remain.  Nor have they always been chimeric, some instead depicting monks, or combinations of real animals and people, many of which were humorous but as urbanisation increased, building codes were imposed which rendered the gargoyles, expect for their spiritual purpose, obsolete.  Typical was London’s 1724 Building Act which mandated the use of downpipes compulsory on all new constructions.

Gargoyle: Marble Church, Bodelwyddan, Clwyd, Wales.  Note the protruding spout: because the water flow will over time erode the passage, many gargoyles have internal piping (some now even plastic) which is replaceable.  The function means this Welsh figure is defined as a gargoyle although its hybrid nature is clearly that of a chimera.  

Within the Church however, the spiritual function wasn’t without controversy.  Gargoyles were thought to keep evil outside a church but existed also to convey messages to a people who usually were illiterate, scaring them into attending church, a reminder that the end of days was near.  However, there were some medieval clergy who viewed gargoyles as a form of idolatry and Burgundian abbot, Saint Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153), was famous for his frequent denunciations, his objections theological, aesthetic and fiscal:

"What are these fantastic monsters doing in the cloisters before the eyes of the brothers as they read?  What is the meaning of these unclean monkeys, these strange savage lions, and monsters?  To what purpose are here placed these creatures, half beast, half man, or these spotted tigers?  I see several bodies with one head and several heads with one body.  Here is a quadruped with a serpent's head, there a fish with a quadruped's head, then again an animal half horse, half goat.  Surely if we do not blush for such absurdities, we should at least regret what we have spent on them."

Grotesque: Crooked Hillary Clinton (digitally altered image).

Even after drainpipes took over responsibilities for drainage, the tradition was maintained by the grotesque, sometimes emulating the earlier elongated lines, sometimes more upright.  Grotesques were popular as decoration on nineteenth and early twentieth century skyscrapers and cathedrals in cities such as New York Minneapolis, and Chicago, the stainless steel gargoyles on New York’s Chrysler Building especially celebrated by students of the art.  The twentieth century collegiate form of the Gothic Revival produced many modern gargoyles, notably at Princeton University, Washington University in Saint Louis, Duke University, and the University of Chicago.  One extensive collection of modern gargoyles is on the National Cathedral in Washington DC.  Beginning in 1908 the cathedral was first encrusted with limestone demons but, over the years, many have been added including Star Wars character Darth Vader, a crooked politician, robots and other modern takes on the ancient tradition.  In England, Saint Albans Cathedral has a grotesque of former Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Robert Runcie and one of an astronaut adorns the Cathedral of Salamanca in Spain.

Grotesques modernes, left to right: Star Wars' Darth Vader (from the Star Wars film franchies), National Cathedral, Washington DC; Astronaut or cosmonaut, Cathedral of Salamanca, Spain; Lindsay Lohan, Notre Dame Cathedral of Reims, Marne France (digitally altered image); Dr Robert Runcie (Baron Runcie, 1921–2000; Archbishop of Canterbury 1980-1991) (centre), St Albans Cathedral, England.

Grotesques and chimeras

A chimera of Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris, contemplating the city, photographed by Noemiseh91.

So, in architecture, gargoyles are a specialized class of grotesques that include the functional feature of a waterspout and even if a building is renovated with a modern water management system added which means a gargoyle’s spout now longer is connected to the flow, it does not become reclassified as a grotesque; it remains a gargoyle, albeit a “dry” one.  While the difference between a gargoyle and grotesque is a matter of whether the design incorporates the handling of fluid, the distinction between a chimera and a grotesque is at the margins fluid in the metaphorical sense, both being ornamental sculptures most associated with Gothic architecture but critics have created criteria, however loose the parameters may seem.  Classically, a chimera was a fantastical, mythical creature, often a hybrid of multiple animals or a mix of human and animal features and for the architectural feature to be classified thus, it has to conform to this model.  In that chimeras differ from any grotesque which is a representation, however bizarre, of a creature from a single species.  What that means is that while all chimeras are grotesques, not all grotesques are chimeras.

Horodecki House (House with Chimaeras), Ukraine, Kyiv.

One of the most celebrated buildings said (erroneously) to be adorned with chimeras is Horodecki House in the Ukrainian capital Kyiv, a structure better known on Instagram as “House with Chimaeras” which received much attention when Volodymyr Zelensky (b 1978, president of Ukraine since 2019) in February 2022 stood in front of it to deliver his “Our weapon is truth” address following the Russian “special military operation” (invasion of Ukraine).  Classified as being in the Art Nouveau style, the building was designed by Polish architect Władysław Horodecki (1863–1930) and despite all the intricate detailing and other complexities, it was completed in little more than two years, opened in 1903.  One thing which made the speed of construction possible was the core technique of using concrete piles as the underpinning, something necessitated by the land being steeply sloped, resulting in an asymmetric building with six floors on Ivan Franko Square while three face Bankova Street.  Another novelty was the use of cement as the finishing material, something at the time not unknown but still rare.  Despite the popular moniker “House with Chimaeras”, the many sculptures which lend Horodecki House its distinctiveness are technically grotesques because all, bipeds & quadrupeds, are representations of real animals, not figures from mythology or fantastical hybrids and it’s believed it picked up the romantic nickname because it imparts such a wonderful air of gloominess and recalls the Gothic style.  The grotesques, rendered in cement, were the work of the Italian sculptor Emilio Sala (1864-1920) who spent most of his working life in St Petersburg (Leningrad) and Kyiv (Kiev).

Interior detailing, Horodecki House Ukraine, Kyiv.

The motif was the theme also for the interior detailing with stuccos, high reliefs and sculptures decorating the ceilings, walls and stairs and of particular interest is that while what’s depicted on the exterior uses only living creatures as a model, inside, everything is dead and often dismembered; Horodetskyi was an avid hunter.  Despite the pervasive feeling of gloom as one approaches the thing, it’s different inside because (the many carcases notwithstanding) the rooms are bright and airy with the floral ornaments typical of early Modernism although it’s of regret all the original furniture and many of the frescos fell victim during World War II (1939-1945) to marauding Red Army soldiers and other looters.  Although in recent years substantially restored, no attempt was made to re-create the frescos, the space now taken by paintings.

Woman with Catfish, Horodecki House Ukraine, Kyiv, photographed by Константинъ. 

Although there are two creatures in this sculpture, it's still a grotesque because they're separate beings; had the depiction been part fish and part human, it would have been as chimaera.  Although large, certain catfish reach 3 metres in length so the sculptor was rendering still still in the realist tradition.

Following restoration, in 2004 the building was designated a museum but since 2005 it has enjoyed official status as the “Small Residence of the President of Ukraine”, curious term meaning it’s used for meetings with foreign dignitaries and in that there are many advantages, the location meaning it’s easy for security forces to secure the site while the larger rooms are spacious and make a most attractive backdrop for photo opportunities.  Daily Art Magazine has a feature with a fine collection of images.